Category: Process

  • Am I Supposed to Have a Character, or Be One?

    This week’s question: How do you develop your characters?

    I would like to object to the form of the question in that it involves facts not in evidence: to wit, that I am a fiction writer.

    Yes, I have on occasion committed fiction. Each November I do Nanowrimo, stringing together some 50,000 words of original— well, dreck is not too harsh— and there are a few instances of fanfic in my past (I was young and naive, all the cool kids were doing it, I didn’t inhale…). Every once in a while a stray plot bunny hops into my yard to die of neglect. But my bread and butter, quite literally, lie in non-fiction writing.
    When I write fiction, it is entirely an exploratory exercise. I’m building a world, manipulating my characters, applying my hard-won wisdom to their travails (also inflicted by myself). Sometimes it’s glorious. Often it’s a disaster. I don’t care either way, because I’m far more interested in the experience of creation than the end product.

    When klutzy, unathletic me was involved in sports, I always enjoyed learning the skills, but I never cared to compete. Other athletes couldn’t understand this at all, “What’s the point if you don’t want to be a champion?” they would wail, utterly befuddled. The point, of course, was the inward journey, the acquisition of skills, strengthening and using my body—never the score. In fact, I found scores and rankings the complete opposite of motivational. Who wants to see their name constantly at the bottom of the list?

    The same is true for having others read my fiction. I have friends who are published, and congratulations to them all. But I have no desire whatsoever to follow in their footsteps, to seek notoriety, glory, or acclaim for my work. There are those who ask, “What’s the point if you’ve not going to becomes a Big Name Author?” I have no answer except for the inside journey. I don’t need to seek anyone’s approval to keep writing. I don’t even want their approval. It would ruin the fun.

  • Character development

    In the past – say around Dickens’ time – often writers would employ the clunky technique of establishing characters by stopping the story and then describing a character in detail: clothing, shape of brow, past indiscretions, jaw shape, blemishes, the whole bit. Characters were doomed to their roles from the start by birthmarks, the shape of their heads, club feet, curly hair, a “laughing mouth” – both negative and positive visual descriptors chosen by authors to pre-dispose their characters.

    Of course, that method was passé when Hemingway started his writing career in the 1920’s and thoroughly obsolete within another ten years as authors realized that stories should be developed by characters who reacted to forces around them and revealed their true natures as the story progressed.

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  • Where the Character Leads, I’ll Shine a Flashlight

    Thinking about how I develop characters is tricky, because I’ve never given it tons of thought. My only truly conscious choice is that I don’t particularly care for giving characters physical descriptions. As a reader I tend to apply my own biases to envisioning the character. For instance, I read Pride & Prejudice while envisioning the actors from Bridget Jones’ Diary. So I try not to bother beyond broad strokes.

    But that’s not the important part, is it? Everything else is And honestly, I don’t need to know most of the meat of a character I start: just a name and a general idea of who they are. I find that the more time I spend penning back story, the less likely I am to write the actual story.

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  • People Watching

    Found on the web at: http://www.worldsstrangest.com/neatorama/stained-glass-d20/

    We were sitting on the steps leading down to Centennial Park from the parking lot of the old burger joint one night, drinking cheap beer advertised on TV and talking about girls. My friend was older than me, maybe five or six years older, maybe a little more, but he was wise and full of insight to my eighteen year-old self. If I think back, a lot of things my friend told me have stuck. I’ve lost touch with him in the intervening years, but I can hear his voice if I think hard enough.

    I tell you that story to tell you this: there’s no secret to developing characters. Anyone can do it. Some writers run their people through a kind of boot camp by interviewing them and knowing all sorts of details that may or may not be revealed in the course of a story. Others take a more organic approach and allow plot to reveal character through action. In the business we call this ‘pantsing’ for ‘flying by the seat of my pants’.

    I fall somewhere in the middle. I need to know more than just a little bit about my characters in order to write about them and often their actions determine the path of the plot. This happens when I ask the question: “What would (character name) do in this situation?” If the answer isn’t dramatic enough, I change the situation to suit the character. The one thing I need to know is whether the character will zig or zag in a given situation.

    Dictionary.com defines Character as “the aggregate of features and traits that form the individual nature of some person or thing”. The same site goes on later to define a character as “(of a part or role) representing a personality type, especially by emphasizing distinctive traits, as language, mannerisms, physical makeup, etc.” Some writers – as I said above – need more than others. When we’re talking about aggregate features and traits that represent a personality type, we’re talking about people. That’s not a secret, either, but I think it’s something that’s often forgotten by writers of all stripes.

    There are two sides to “Write What You Know”. First, yes – write what you know about, share your expertise and be passionate about the stories you want to tell. Second, don’t limit yourself – find out what you don’t know and expand your base of knowledge. Then you can more authoritatively “Write What You Know” because you just learned it. When I don’t know characters that I think will be essential to the telling of a story, I have to find out more about personality types. I consult books, watch films, read interviews with real people who I think are like the character I want to create. Sometimes I go places to people watch. Sometimes riding public transportation will inform a character.

    I’ve used all kinds of character sheets as I’ve been learning about writing. Everything from a basic D&D character sheet to Nancy Kress’ character interviews have been helpful in determining all sorts of things I need to know or don’t. I don’t necessarily need to know everything about the characters’ childhoods, but I do need to know things like one important event that occurred in their past. The one thing that they hold on to, that shapes them and drives them to be the person they are. Where and when it happened, how old the person was when it happened, who was involved, how it affected him. Everyone’s got a story that’s painful. If I know that one story about any of my characters, they’re easier to write.

    My day job allows me to interact and observe hundreds of people each day. I roll the dice every time I’m out among them as to which things I will absorb, which traits and features will be filed for later use. A lot of times it’s as simple as getting someone to tell me a story about their day or something that they’re passionate about. A lot of people like to talk. It’s listening that’s the secret.

  • Warped Characters?

    In the very first draft of my very first novel, I struggled with character a lot–I didn’t have any bad ones.  Nope, all my characters were well-meaning, with great heart and minor, excusable flaws.  Even the person who burned down the church had a perfectly good reason for doing it–not a justification, exactly, but certainly enough rationale to make him a sympathetic character.

    Readers commented that my characters were all just too unbelievably well-behaved and pleasant.  So, in my next novel attempt, I did try to make some more believable bad guys. Really. There were some guys in a lab, there were some military guys, there were some guys who just wanted to protect their own ill-gotten power. But then it turned out they all had interests in the situations, and that in some circumstances they were wonderful supporters of all that was good and right, and only in certain other circumstances did they release their inner villain.  Of course, this time, the person who burned down the church had absolutely iron-clad reasons for why he had to do it, and he was a hero, not a villain.

    In my third novel, I think I finally managed to make some bad guys–actually some people with anti-social interests sitting in a room plotting to wreak havoc on the lives of those around them by taking away their health insurance and jobs, or something like that.  Truly bad guys, the sort that wanted to return rampant inequality and hierarchical authority to the world.  And then, people got to yell at them for a long time about how much they wanted to hurt them.  At least I got through that book without any new arsonists!

    Writing heroes and heroines is relatively easy for me.  I can invent past lives, ambitions, dreams, quirks, and speech patterns.  I can describe days in the lives of, their homes, their companions.  But writing characters who intentionally do evil things is a struggle.  At those times, I tend to go to stock characters and stereotypes.  I need to work on building characters who are human, who do bad things, who might feel bad about doing those bad things but still are not totally redeemed at the end of the day.  Like Alec in Tess of the D’Urbervilles, who is totally a villain and totally understandable and mostly redeemed and still experiences poetic justice.  Writing a villain like Alec would be the  crowning achievement of my writing career!

  • Hulk Smash!

    This one’s going to be a short one, folks, because my methods for developing characters are reasonably simple, albeit brutal:

    1. Take a Ken/Barbie Doll. This is your character template.
    2. Smash it multiple times with a hammer. This is your new and improved character template.
    3. Describe the physical/emotional damage you have inflicted.
    4. Explore how Ken/Barbie tries to put themselves back together.
    5. Throw still-mostly-broken Ken/Barbie down the stairs, then set them on fire.
    6. Rinse and repeat.

    The End

    Well, no, not really. I am a writer. I can elaborate just a little bit more than that, I guess.

    Physical Characteristics

    Much like my approach to scenes, I believe that less is more when it comes to describing my characters. Physical characteristics are generally ignored unless they’re particularly distinct (ala the result of a hammer smash) or affect the action in a scene. For instance, I may have a meek character huddling in the corner hiding her face behind her long hair. Or perhaps my brash protagonist brandishes his livid facial scars as he stares down the bad guys. The only details I provide for my reader are the ones that differentiate a character from the generic norm. Everything else is left for the reader’s mind to fill in for themselves.

    Behavioral Characteristics

    The key word here is “Damage.” It’s even more important when tackling behavioral characteristics than addressing physical features. Flaws are interesting. The more glaring the flaw, the more interesting the character. I tend to overemphasize key personality defects and play them up. I like my characters to fit recognizable archetypes, at least initially. Readers can then easily frame the characters in their mind and feel like they know them and what to expect from them.

    This, of course, is merely a lure. A clever ruse. The truly interesting character is one that surprises the reader without acting completely out of context. An interesting character possesses a deeper layer, running cross-hatched to the shallow surface behaviors that were originally presented. The blending of the stereotypical with the unpredictable makes for memorable, believable characters. The trick is making sure both layers still play out in a believable way.

    Progression

    Every character should have the opportunity to change during the story. The main characters should be forced to change, whether for better or worse. It’s their journey that propels the reader through the story. So in addition to crosshatching shallow archetypes with deeper troubles, I try my best to interject a strong counter-current for each main character, forcing them to reevaluate their worldview during the story and adjust accordingly. Sometimes the counter-current is simple, like unrequited love. Sometimes it’s bigger, like, “You just invented a technology that’s going to destroy mankind. Good luck with the guilt.” Usually it’s somewhere in the middle. It’s my hammer, and I wield it with brutal efficiency.

    Final Thoughts

    When in doubt as to how to make a character more interesting for the audience, think “Hulk Smash!” You can’t go wrong.

  • Who are you and what do you want?: Developing characters and finishing what I start

    Back when I never finished anything, I used to just give my characters a name and a situation and watch the ‘fun’.

    But it wasn’t enough, I cannot be pantsless (See Confabulator Ted Boone’s Pants are optional. Plans are not. | Confabulator Cafe.) and I never finished anything! And it wasn’t all that fun, either.  Not that it was their fault. Among other things, I found through this process that I needed to know these people extremely well to have a grasp on how they might act, or react, to other characters and the situations I put them in, and, come to think of it, what the situations might be that they’d be in in the first place.  Is this making sense?  Hello?

    Writers need limits, or this one does anyway, to circumscribe the possibilities, to give boundaries to work in, to pressure the work to make it go.  Willy nilly is too chaotic for me, too many choices (like those giant @&#% menus at chain restaurants) made me a worse writer, and I NEVER FINISHED ANYTHING. Did I mention that?

    Now I use character worksheets to help me think about what these people look like, their backgrounds, relationships, desires; I use screenwriting techniques; I brainstorm with people about what might work; I practice with my characters in situations other than the story I think they want to tell.  I think hard about them:  What do they want to say? What do they want more than anything in the world? What’s to stop them? Then what? Go from the inside out. I’ve ‘finished’ some things, but it doesn’t end there–I’m still trying to make them better in revision, and I find getting down to the base motivations of my characters is a big part of that making that process better, too.

    As for the reader, oh yeah, I do not want to insult the reader with boring, cliché, two dimensional characters, the actions need to flow coherently from who these people are and if they don’t, well, I hope you do shut your laptop or throw down the pages in disgust. I’m lucky to have your attention in the first place.  And that’s a pretty good motivator…

  • Characters Grow in Fertile Soil

    Stories are built, but characters are grown. That’s the best way I can explain it. A story, to me, is a series of events which can be shuffled around to achieve the greatest impact and the most effective rise and fall of tension.

    Characters, especially the main characters, must be nurtured and coaxed into revealing themselves a little at a time. If you met someone at a party, and the first thing they did was tell you their entire life story, their likes and dislikes, and their motivation for being at the party, you’d make a beeline for the exit. Thanks for the martini and the canapés, love what you’ve done with the place, see you at work on Monday.

    Main characters start as a picture in my head, a piece of dialogue, or part of a scene already in progress. From there, I start asking questions. Who is this person stripping naked in a bar and hurling her clothes at a round little man in glasses? Why are there flames in her eyes, and why was she dressed like a pirate before she threw her eye patch at him?

    I’m not much for filling out character sheets. Yes, I have an obsession for writing out scenes and events on note cards. Yes, I outline before I start writing. But characters have to grow organically.

    Sometimes I know far more about my characters than I will ever have the need to share. Other times, I’m flying by the seat of my pants and don’t realize until many chapters later that I have an entire cast of unrelated, hostile characters who are extremely short in stature.

    Every last one of them.

    But physical characteristics are easy. They’re scene dressing. If they don’t work, I can change them out. Short and fat becomes tall and lean with a few keystrokes. But the hostility of the character, that’s a permanent fixture. The why of the hostility, however, is what may stop me in my tracks to go for a long drive. I will mutter and wave my arms behind the wheel, questioning the motives and back story, until wham. Oh my God. That’s what happened? No wonder he’s so pissed off at her.

    In the end, the reader only needs to know what’s important. And most of that should come from observing how the character acts, speaks, and interacts with other characters.

    Build the scene with a box of Lego. Grow a character like a hothouse orchid. Nobody wants a description of the flower or how the orchid was grown. People want to hold it in their hands. Smell it.

    They want to see it for themselves and form their own opinions.

  • Unusual Bedroom

    I'm sure there's an explanation for this…

    Almost all of my stories start with a character. Even when I only have the vaguest idea of what the story is about, or where it takes place, some loudmouthed character starts telling me what’s up. “This is my story. This is what happens to me. You’re gonna tell it right now.”

    Why do my characters always have an attitude?

    Before I start a new story, I have a variety of character worksheets I like to fill out. It helps me nail down the particulars of my protagonist. This character is a person with a whole life from birth to present, and I’m only telling a small section of it. Knowing that person’s history, even if it never makes it into the story, helps turn a character into a real person.

    When I’m actually writing a story, it’s a whole different experience, the way characters develop. They tend to crop up out of nowhere. Some character my protagonist meets in passing – a barista, a cop at a crime scene, a random coworker – ends up turning into an important supporting character. I never worry about developing them too much. They know their place in the story better than I do, since I didn’t expect them in the first place. I learn about them in how they interact with my protagonist (or antagonist), and they reveal their own backstory as I write them.

    As far as the reader? They don’t get to know everything. They get to know what I tell them. What I let them see. I get to pick and choose what traits best portray my character. They do get a firsthand look into the character’s mind, and everything that is going on from the time the story starts til when it ends, but as the writer, I have to put that character in context without writing the character’s entire life story. I try not to get too bogged down in character details in the telling of their story.

    The reader wants to know what happens next, not what the protagonist’s bedroom looks like.

    Unless it is somehow significant to the plot. Or unless it’s an unusual bedroom which illustrates something important about the character’s personality.

    Besides, I think I am obligated to uphold something like a doctor/patient confidentiality agreement. Author/character confidentiality. Some stuff my characters tell me in confidence.

  • Lying on the couch: A conversation with myself

    Character interviewBefore I begin to set pen to paper (metaphorically) on my stories, I like to have several conversations with my main character.

    As with any job interview, questions help me consider whether or not he/she can get the job done. But in truth, these conversations sound more like a prolonged therapy session with a psychiatrist.

    Me: So, tell me a little about yourself.

    Main Character: Well, I have this weird problem with perception. I can’t read words as they appear. I see words, and I can read them, but they make no sense. The sign at McDonald’s may say “Over one billion served” but I see the words “Dolphin spatula green sycamore.”

    Me: I see. So, how long has this problem been going on?

    MC: Since my accident, I think. I don’t remember anything about my life before that. My doctor says I must have learned to read at some point, because I can associate words and pictures in my head. I just can’t read them correctly.

    Me: And how is this going to make for an interesting story?

    MC: Well, lately I’ve been able to read a sign on the side of the road. It seems to be directed at me. It says, “Turn here, Martin.”

    Me: That’s rather specific.

    MC: Yeah. My doctor thinks it’s a good sign, that my brain is trying to repair itself.

    Me: What do you think?

    MC: I think it’s kinda creepy. My wife thinks I should ignore it. But I feel like someone’s calling to me. I want to follow the sign.

    Once I have a good understanding of what makes my main character unique, I can begin to build a story around him. I need to know some things, but not everything about him before I start. For instance, how did he meet his wife? What kind of life did he have before the accident? Answers to these questions may (or may not) come out in the story. There will be time for additional discovery later.

    Depending on the story, I may want to have a similar conversation with my Main Adversary. The MA can be as important as the hero in a story. Think of Lex Luthor in Superman, or Darth Vader in The Empire Strikes Back. Good villains are a counterpoint to heroes. And they have their own reasons, their own motivations, for doing what other people consider “evil.” The trick to writing a villain is to make him/her believable. If they can justify what they’re doing in terms that seem realistic, you probably have someone worth writing about.

    Secondary characters don’t need this kind of detail before I begin writing. Often, I will have characters with descriptions like “love interest,” “best friend,” or “receptionist.” They can be fleshed out later, but sometimes not until the second or third draft.

    The key is to listen: to my characters, myself, and — probably — to a good shrink to sort out all the voices in my head.